Wren perks up slightly, listening intently. Torin glances her way, hesitating, then looks to me for guidance.
“She’s family,” I remind him. “We keep no secrets here.”
Torin nods. “I’m barely ever at my place anymore. And never at night. I don’t… do well with the quiet of an empty house, and...”
He trails off, and I study him. It’s not easy for him to admit this out loud. Torin hasn’t handled nights alone since the nightmares started. He’s been crashing at my place more often than not anyway.
“Move in whenever you’re ready. You three are already sleeping on my couches half the week. Might as well put you in your own damn rooms. I imagine the three of you will be roaming the halls before the end of the week.”
“What is this? A haunted fucking manor?” Ryker cracks.
I shoot him a sharp look. “It will be, if you keep running your fucking mouth.”
Ryker blows me a kiss, which earns him another smack to the back of the head from Ghost. Ryker retaliates with one of his own, landing a hard slap between Ghost’s shoulder blades.
Ghost stiffens. “You must have a fucking death wish.”
I sigh, dragging a hand down my face. “Knock it the fuck off.”
“Moving on,” Ryker mutters, the edge of humor gone from his voice. “Killian tells me Dimitri went into hiding after the incident with Wren at their safe house. You still want to kill him yourself?”
Wren turns toward me, her brows lifting in silent question.
“Like I said the other night, his death is mine.”
Torin shrugs. “As long as he dies, I don’t care who pulls the trigger.”
“And the Bratva fallout?” Ghost questions, always two steps ahead. “Losing both brothers won’t go unnoticed by the Motherland.”
Ryker leans back into the couch, one ankle resting across his knee. “Killian’s ready to clean house the second Dimitri falls, but we won’t know exactly how Russia will retaliate until they do.”
I nod. “We’ll have to strengthen our new alliance with the Irish, at least temporarily. Our plan to dismantle the Bratva before Dimitri dies should make their job easier.”
Ghost leans forward. “I’m on it. I’ll leak identities to CSIS, drain their accounts, hijack their surveillance systems, and forge intel to turn their men on each other. By the time I’m done, and Dimitri is dead, they’ll be broken and divided.”
Across from me, Wren sits frozen. Her eyes are wide, and her face is pale, like she’s struggling to keep up with the reality of what we’re discussing. I lean in, brushing my shoulder gently against hers. “Do you need a break?”
She nods slowly. “Where’s the bathroom?”
I point to the door across the room, and she gets to her feet, offering a faint smile before slipping away.
As soon as the door clicks shut, I exhale and turn back to Ghost. “Offload whatever you need on me, depending on how time-consuming this shit gets.”
Ghost shrugs. “It won’t be a problem. I’m basically a computer in a meat suit at this point. But yeah, I’ll loop you in. Finding Dimitri is the priority now that the slimy motherfucker’s in hiding. I’ll be monitoring surveillance feeds nonstop until we find him.”
I nod. “It’ll be a pain in the ass, but once we get eyes on him, it’s over.”
Ryker sighs, dragging a hand through his blonde hair. “Can’t fucking wait. I’m sick of his men showing up at the club. A few days before your fight, they stepped into my office uninvited and told me how easy it would be to kill me and just take over everything we’ve built.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “You failed to mention that to me.”
Ryker shrugs, unapologetic. “And give you a reason to go on another murder spree? Especially now that you’ve got a woman making you ten times more impulsive?”
I rise from the couch, slow and deliberate. Ghost mirrors my movement, cutting me off.
“Do not feed the fucking troll, Dom,” he warns, placing a firm hand on my chest. “Ryker is just aching for another beat down, and he doesn’t know how to ask nicely.”
I shift, angling my body to glare past him, locking eyes with Ryker. “You’re lucky I love you, you fucked-up little masochist.”